


Detention

by WildKitsune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Professor Tom Riddle, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitsune/pseuds/WildKitsune
Summary: Hermione gets detention, and it isn’t even Harry’s fault.  She must spend the time alone with her least favorite professor; Riddle.  It seems the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been planning her punishment for quite some time.





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyoki777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoki777/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
> A/N- Special thanks to Kyoki who is a fantastic beta. This story was written as a birthday gift for her!

Hermione was seething where she stood.  She could feel her face hot with embarrassment and fury; tears threatened to corners of her eyes as she stared up at the man as if she had no idea what he had just said.

“I will expect you tonight Miss Granger, promptly at seven.”  The Professor spoke in front of the rest of the class, daring her to go against his word.

Everyone knew that the charming young Professor Riddle and Head Girl Hermione Granger did not get along.  They verbally spared in his every class over subjects great and small. But this was the first time she had let it go so far, and he had pushed back with a vengeance.

“Detention?”  Harry asked once they were dismissed from class, the grin on his face said volumes about how seriously he was taking her distress.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have referred to him as an ‘arrogant old fool’?”  Ron cut in, amusement clear in his tone as well.

“Think he was more upset over the old part or the fool part?”  Harry asked curiously.

“Well at least you both agree he’s arrogant and he knows it.”  Hermione snapped then rushed toward to get away from their teasing.

She didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin for the rest of the day.  She was distracted in class by the fact she was going to have to spend an evening with a man she hated, a man who hated her.

At dinner, she could feel his eyes burning into her as he made plans of all the awful things he would make her do that night.

It was only six forty-five when she found herself pacing in front of his office door.  She struggled between knocking early and getting it all over with and giving herself the extra fifteen minutes to stew on what he could possibly have planned for her.  She got her hand to the door several times before she backed out at the last moment and went back to pacing.

At six fifty-three she saw Riddle walking up the hall towards her at a leisurely, relaxed pace.  She knew the other girls in the school fawned over the new Defense professor, but she found the fact that he knew how good he looked to be an immense turnoff.  She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re early,”  Riddle said as he glanced at his pocket watch before putting it away so he could unlock his office door.  When she moved to follow him, he held up a hand to stall her. “I only need a few papers; we’re not staying.”  He said as he made his way over to his desk.

“Where are we going?”  She couldn’t help but ask as he collected a few things off the neat desk.  He kept everything in his office so tidy; it bothered her even though she found it was perfectly organized in the exact way she would do it herself.

“We’re going to have a few rules tonight Miss Granger,”  he said sounding distracted. “The first of which is that you are not allowed to ask questions.”

“What?!”  She asked looking at him with shock.

“That was a question.” He pointed out as he glanced up at her with a brief smirk before going back to his work.  “For every one of your rules you break there will be a consequence of my choosing.”

She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t open her mouth again.  Riddle's words only brought a million questions to her brain that all wanted to burst from her lips.

“Better.”  He said as if he could see her inner struggle.  “The second rule of the evening is that you will follow my every instruction exactly.”  Riddle continued as he collected the last of what he needed from his desk and made his way towards her.  “The third rule is you must address me as Sir for the rest of the evening.”

She frowned at him and nodded, they were not far from the school rules, she had to address all the professors respectfully, and she had to listen when they gave instructions, but why couldn’t she ask questions, and why was that the  _ first _ rule.

They moved further down into the depths of the castle towards where she knew the Slytherin dungeons were located.  Just before they got to the entrance they turned off down a hall she couldn’t ever remember entering. She couldn’t think of ever seeing the corridor before that evening.  She wanted to ask again where they were going but stopped herself before she did.

He opened the first door they got to and motioned for her to follow him inside.  She put her hands behind her as she looked around at what appeared to be a cozy sitting room.  There was a fireplace with a couch and chair stationed into a sitting area. The walls were lined with books, and she couldn’t help the siren’s call of their pages. She had moved into the room and ran her fingers over the titles of both muggle books and magical tombs.

“That one is a bit temperamental, your not ready for what she would do to you,”  Riddle said catching her wrist before she touched an untitled book with a shimmering violet spine.

“She?”  She asked without thinking.  Hermione had never heard anyone assigning a sex to a book before.

“That is a question, Miss Granger.”  Riddle chuckled, she could feel his breath over her neck, and she was suddenly struck how closely he was standing to her.  “How shall I punish you?”

“It’s a stupid rule.  I can’t learn anything without asking questions.”  She huffed and jerked to move out of his grip. The hand on wrist held fast.

“I have a feeling you will learn a great deal tonight Miss Granger.  You’ve been positively begging for my private instruction.” He told her in a tone that made her flush and swallow hard.  “Your little outburst today gave me a perfect chance.”

“You baited me on purpose.” She accused trying to jerk free again.

“For months.”  Riddle agreed as he leaned into her back and breathed in the scent of her hair.  “You have too much self-control for my liking. I much rather be the one in control.  I should punish you just for making me wait.”

“Wh-”  She cut herself off before she could form yet another question.  “You hate me as much as I hate you.” She said instead.

He pushed her hair aside, and he could feel the brush of his lips on the back of her neck.  “I hate you exactly as much as you hate me.” He agreed, and she felt teeth scrape against her skin, and a little shiver went down her neck.

“What are you doing?”  She couldn’t keep the question from her lips any longer.

“If I answer you, you must agree to give me control for the rest of the evening.”  He said, his breath brushing against the wet skin.

“You’re already in control.” She pointed out.  “You’re my Professor, and I am in detention.” She said as if she was trying to assure herself of the truth of her words.

“Grant me control on a personal level, Hermione, and I will answer any question you like.”  He offered, his free hand moving to her hip. She was trembling on the cusp of something she didn’t know if she wanted to understand.

She had filed Riddle into the tidy collum of a man who hated her and moved on with her life.  Now, it seemed that hate was not precisely what she thought it had been.

“If I say no?”

“Then I will  _ rip  _ the last ten minutes from your mind and start the evening again.  I will make you read and grade all of my first and second-year reports and pretend as if you are not nearly as interesting as you are for another few weeks until I have another chance to have you alone.”

Hermione swallowed at the sure way he spoke, and she wondered if that was something he had done to her before.

“Or you could give me control for this evening and enjoy everything I make you do to yourself and to me.”  He offered, making her shift where she stood.

“What sort of things?”  She asked swallowing thickly, as she couldn’t get her heart to stop racing.

“No more questions until you give me your answer,  _ Hermione _ .”  He said her name like a curse.

“Yes.”  She choked out before she could let fear stop her from doing something exciting for once in her life.  She dreamed about not having to be in control all the time, and Riddle was offering her exactly that.

“Good pet.  What shall we name you?”  He asked as he kissed the back of her neck once more.

“Name me?”  She asked as the hand on her wrist slipped up her arm to her chest, and met the other one to start unbuttoning her shirt.

“Something to call the part of you that is freed when I am in control.”  He explained sounding amused at her slowness.

“I like pet… or kitten maybe?” She asked swallowing as she hoped she was reading the situation correctly.

“My little lioness?” He nipped at the back of her neck again as he pulled her shirt off her arms.

“Yeah.  I like that.” She nodded, and he suddenly spun her around, so she had to look up into his eyes.  He pressed her back into the books pushing his body flush against hers.

“And you will call me Sir unless you prefer ‘my Lord’”  He offered as his hands moved to the button of her skirt.  She seemed to be doing an excellent job of ignoring the fact that she was undressing her.

“Yes, Sir.”  She said unsure of exactly what she saw in his expression.

He hummed as he pushed her shirt off her hips and stepped back for a better view.  She was wearing white cotton that made her feel much more inexperienced and virginal than she was.  She blushed as he seemed to study her every flaw. She suddenly worried he would find her wanting.

“I think black, silver, and green of course.”  He said, but he was obviously talking to himself, so she didn’t bother responding.  “But where to have you? I’ve had so many thoughts on the subject I don’t know which to make real first.  Remove the rest while I prepare.” He ordered before turning his back on her and heading into another room she hadn’t noticed with how distracted she had been by the books.

She pulled bra off over her head in a rush.  Her shoes, socks, and knickers came off next.  She wanted to be fully ready whenever he got back.  This was a fantasy she had never even dared let herself have.  He was the professor that most every girl in the school followed like a puppy in heat.  Why was she the one standing naked in his sitting room?

Maybe she wasn’t the only one; perhaps this was his way of finally putting her in her place so she wouldn’t talk back in class anymore?  She flushed and looked to her feet; maybe she should grab her clothes and run. Tell the Headmaster what Riddle had tried to do to her.

“No more thinking little lion.”  His words came out as almost a hiss.  “I am in control here, and your will belongs to me.”  He said and motioned her to him with his finger as his eyes seemed to enjoy the side of her naked form.

“Why me?”  She asked as she walked towards him, his predatory gaze made her a bit lightheaded.

“Because your will is worth taming.”  He said reaching out for her as soon as she was within reach.  He spun her around again and gathered the mass of her up into his hands.  It took her a moment to realize he was braiding it back.

“Why-”  She started to ask, but he pulled her head back with a jerk.

“Because it will make a good leash for my new pet.”  He purred in her ear. He let out of the braid a moment later and slipped something over her eyes, keeping it in place with a sticking charm.

Hermione swallowed as she thought about her own wand back with her clothes.  If he wanted to do something to her, she was defenseless. She reached up and pulled at the blindfold, finding it impossible to remove.  Her heart started to beat faster.

“What are you going to do to me?” She asked breathlessly.

“Things of your dreams and nightmares, they will make you quake with passion and beg for me to stop and then never stop.”  He answered then wrapped the braid around his fist and pulled her back into the room she could not see.

He led her to a table, and to lay back on it.  “Who do you belong to my little lioness?” he asked as she felt the soft fur lined cuffs wrap around each ankle.

“You Sir.” She said with a smile; she always liked it when she knew the answer.

“Good girl.”  He hissed softly, as she heard him move around towards her head.  “Tell me kitten, have you dreamed about your Master before tonight?”  He asked, and she could feel his fingers trace over her jaw and throat.

“Not doing this.”  She admitted. “I didn’t imagine you would ever want to do this.”

“I am sure my lovely girl has problems with the  _ boys _ her age not seeing how magnificent she is.  I am sure they think a woman with a will and a mind are much too powerful to see as the sexual being she is.  I’m not intimidated by your power my lioness; I am aroused by it.”

She swallowed at his words and nearly found herself purring as his hands moved to her shoulders and drew her arms up over her head.  He cuffed each wrist with care, and she found herself writhing on the table as she was utterly at his mercy.

“Now it is time to decorate my pretty little kitty.” He chuckled before she could hear him move away.

“Decorate?”  She asked, her body flush with how wonton she sounded to her own ears.

“Oh yes.” He agreed as he came close once more.  “Those pretty rounds breasts are begging to be splatted in heat and color.”  He told her softly. His cunning fingers plucked gently at her pebbled nipple.

She moaned and arched her back towards his hand as he teased her.  “You're going to like this.” He told her as if he could command her very desires.

A moment later hot, nearly searing heat splashed over her neck.  She gasped at it in surprise, but her toes curled as it only heightened her awareness of the room.

“What?”  She gasped wanting to know how he had made that happen but unable to form the full question as he did it again.  It was as if he was dribbling liquid heat along her body, it cooled and hardened in a way that made her skin feel tight.  “Wax?” She questioned as she realized what it felt like.

“From a specially enchanted candle.”  He explained this time dropping far closer to her sensitive nipple.

“Enchanted to do what?”  She asked she didn’t feel it doing anything she wouldn’t expect of nonmagical wax.

“No matter out hot it will not damage even the most sensitive skin.”  He started to explain before dripping a large dollop right onto her nipple.  She cried out at the new level of pain, but she could feel her sex throb with need.  She hadn’t realized how delicious pain at a master’s hands could be. “Not that it doesn’t still  _ burn _ .”  He purred before giving her other breast the same treatment.

“Oh.”  She gasped and rubbed her legs together wanting any kind of friction at her core.

He tsked and dripped some wax over her neck and chin before moving away.  “It seems I need to tighten these before we continue. You are trying to be naughty.” He said as she could feel her legs being pulled apart.  She was soon spread wide for him, unable to close her legs if she wanted. “Now where were we?” He asked

She whimpered as she struggled against the new hold.  “Please? It’s too much.” She said and bit her lip.

“Are you begging for me to stop or are you begging for me to fuck you?”  He asked teasingly as the fire of the wax landed on her untouched breast.

She gasped and arched her back wiggling as much as she could in her bonds.  “Fuck me, Sir?” She mewed. She was already more turned on than she thought she had been in her entire life.

How was it that he of all people could play her body so easily?  She couldn’t think clearly for the first time since she was born and it was all at the hands of the man that drove her up the wall.  She let out a whimpering sound as started a new trail of heat down her stomach.

“No!” She said as he dropped a bit right near the apex of her pulsing core.  She knew what was next and she didn’t think she was ready.

“No?”  Riddle asked, and she could hear the cruelty in his voice.  “Do you think I would accept such a word from  _ you _ my lioness?  Do you think you’re allowed to say, no, tonight?”  He asked, but before she could come up with an answer, he poured the wax along her slit.

She screamed as it seemed to run in rivers over her clit down to her sex and passed.  She was shaking when Riddle pulled away and let the wax dry for a moment. He ran a soothing hand along her thigh.

“You make such pretty sounds my kitten.  Let's add another color, shall we?” He asked, but she knew she didn’t have a choice.  “The green looks so pretty on you I want to take pictures, but the black will make things even better.”  He explained to her trembling form.

“Does it do something?” She asked as she blushed at the idea of having pictures of her bound and at his mercy.  Would he really do such a thing?

“The black still keeps your precious skin safe like all my candles.  But it adds something a little more fun. See if you can tell me.” He replied before he began to splatter the wax over her breasts carelessly.

The heat she expected freckled her chest, and he continued to drop more and more as she wiggled against every prick of beautiful pain.  She gasped as he poured a long run of it over one nipple and then the other.

“I don’t…”  She started and then gasped again as everywhere the new wax hit her started to feel ice cold.  “...oh!” She continued and whimpered as her nipples hardened to the point of pain. “OH!” She gasped as her head swam with the sensation she could do nothing about.

Once he was done playing with her breasts, Riddle gave no warning before he poured more over her sex as he had done before. First, she screamed with fire, the other wax doing nothing to protect her aching quim.  Then she whimpered with the cold. Her clit swollen with confusion and need.

“Oh god!”  She gasped, and he chuckled.

“I like that.”  He purred brushing a finger over her lips.  “I am your only god.” He told her playfully.

“I don’t know.”  Hermione shook her head.  “I don’t know if I can take anymore.  I need you, Sir!”

“God.”  He said moving to give her a soft kiss.  “Call me god.” He explained biting gently at her bottom lip even as he dropped more of the black wax onto her stomach.

“I need you, god.” She gasped pushing back against his lips.  “I want you inside me.”

“I’m not done yet; we still have silver to go.” He pulled away then, and she whimpered at the loss and the prospect that he would use more wax on her.

“I don’t think I can take any more.”  Her whimper was only met by wicked laughter.

“You will take everything I give you.  Who is in control?” He asked again, and she whimpered and shook her head not wishing to answer.  “Who?” He asked in a more serious tone.

“You my god, you are in control.” She said quickly before she displeased him.  She didn’t want to know what he would do if she annoyed him while at his mercy.

“Would you like to know what the silver dose before I drowned you in it?”  He asked, playful once more.

“Yes please god?”  She wanted to know what to expect this time.  What could be worse than the cold?

“This wax will heighten and please every nerve it touches.  It will make every inch of skin overly sensitive to anything I may wish to do to it.”  He told her as if what he was describing would be a good thing when she was already vibrating with need.

She bit her lip and whimpered, shaking her head bit her lip not daring to try and tell him no again.  He pulled her lip from between her teeth but rested his hand against her chin to keep her mouth closed.  A moment later he carefully dropped the wax over her lips.

“Let it dry.”  He ordered before he started to work on her breasts once more.  No matter how much wax he seemed to pour on her, it never seemed to protect her from whatever new layer on which he was working.  She suspected that was part of the candles magic as well.

She whimpered as she worked to keep her mouth shut as the wax dried and brought the feeling in her lips alive as it did.  Her already aching breasts were impossibly sensitive by the time he was done with them. She felt as if there was a haze at the edge of her mind trying to close in as there was just too much for her to process.

She knew exactly where he would go next, but that still did not protect her from the living fire he poured down her core.  She screamed again, breaking the wax on her lips as she could feel her body just about to crest her climax. He hadn’t even really touched her, and she was about to fall into oblivion.

“ _ Signa Tempestatis _ ”  He cast the spell on her at the very last second and her mind when white as her body continued to teeter on the edge.

“FUCK!”  She cried.  It seemed whenever she thought she had already taken too much; he just added a new layer to his torture.  “What did you do?!”

“You can’t orgasm until I release the spell.  But all the other things don’t go away.” He said savagely.

“Please?  Why god?” She whimpered in a confusing mix of pain and arousal that felt more like torture than sex.

“What was your first rule of the evening?”  Riddle asked calmly.

“But you said you would answer any question I had if I gave you control.” She said seeing exactly where he was going.

“What was your first rule?”  He asked again; he did not like to repeat himself.

“No questions.”  She whimpered and shook her head.

“I said I would answer your questions.  I never said you had permission to ask them.”  He chuckled darkly. “If you are a good girl I let you cum just as soon as I am hilt deep in your wonton little cunt.”

“Please?”  She shook her head; she was going to faint from too much stimuli.  He ran his fingers over the drying wax of her stomach and a new crest of need added for the first that had no dissipated in the least.  “Its too much!”

“Do you know how perfect your beauty is right now my little lioness?  Covered in my colors? Aching for a release only I can give you?”

“Please god, please please?”  She begged not able to focus on what he was saying.  When the hand disappeared from her stomach, she gave a pathetic little whimper as she wondered if one could die of too much pleasure.

_ click click click _

She whimpered as she heard the sound of him moving around her, but Hermione had no idea what t he could be doing now when she needed him so dearly between her legs.

“I think these will be a favorite.  I’ll show them to you as soon as they’re ready.”  He told her, and she felt too slow to understand what he was talking about.

“Please god?  Please fuck me?  Please let me cum?”  She begged and whimpered.  She couldn’t take anymore; she knew the next thing would be an end to her.

“You beg so pretty don’t you my pet?”  He purred as his hands moved up her legs and she could feel him climbing onto the table with her.

“Please, I’ll do anything.  Anything!” She gasped as his fingers moved to her core and he peeled away the dried wax which only made her feel cold air with a new torturous sharpness.

“Do you want your Master’s phallus?  Do you want to please my arousal with your quivering little quim?”  He asked as he let her feel his shaft slide against her slick folds.

“Yes please god please!”

He thrust himself to the hilt as he bottomed out inside her letting the spell end it’s hold on her climax.  She screamed herself hoarse as wave after wave after wave of pleasure seemed to rock her from the tips of her hair to the bottom of her heels.

Her vision when white with it and she felt him take a rough fast pace into her needy sex as she quaked around him.  She passed out from the pleasure, unable to handle it all, for once her mind stopped working, not thinking of anything at all as she slipped into oblivion. 

She awoke the next morning with a whimper, curling into a ball.  Her dreams were filled with Professor Riddle torturing her with hot wax and orgasm denial.  Her core ached with it, but it still took her a full minute to remember it had all been real.  She sat up with a gasp and looked around to find that she was back in her own room in the Head’s dorm.

He had cleaned every speck of the wax from her body but left her naked on the bed.  She flushed as she thought about how wonton he had made her with her words and deeds, even before the work of the magical wax she had wanted him with a burning heat.

“Granger you have an owl,”  Draco called from their common room sounding annoyed.  “Who calls you lioness?” He asked with disgust.

She was out of her bed with her night robe fashioned around her in a matter of seconds.  Her knees were unsteady, and it took her a moment to get to the door.

“If you open my mail I’ll hex you into next week.” She growled as she tried to walk normally to retrieve the letter.

Draco’s eyes ran over her, and she felt she was not going a good job, but he only gave her a knowing look as he handed over the envelope.  She turned her back on him and went directly back to her room before opening Riddle’s message. Maybe he would tell her where he had put her clothes? She wondered as she realized he had not returned them with her.  Had he carried her through the castle naked?

_ To my precious kitten, _

_ Now that I have had a taste of you I do not think I am letting you go.  You are mine. _

_ ~Your God _

She narrowed her eyes at the short message, but couldn’t ignore the sick and thrilling feeling his words invoked.  She wasn’t sure she could handle the attention of a god like him for long. After a moment of staring, she noticed a second piece behind the letter and pulled it out.  She dropped the picture as if it has burned her.

It was a full-color photograph of her spread on his table.  She was writhing in what looked like bliss or agony, but there was a demented kind of smile spread over her lips.  She had thought the dripping of wax had been random, more for sensation than aesthetic. But she could clearly see she was wrong.  Painted down her torso was the impression of a snake slithering out of the mouth of a skull, tongue lewdly licking her sex.


End file.
